


An Unworthy Death

by AstroFighter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fighting, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 17:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5975449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroFighter/pseuds/AstroFighter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke finally awakes from a drunken stupor, only to find herself in the grips of a long lost lover, a war and a never ending nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unworthy Death

**An Unworthy Death**

 

**Chapter 1:**

 

_Clarke clutched her gun. Facing her enemy. Lexa._

 

_She gritted her teeth, wavering just long enough for an arrow to fly past._

 

_Her eyes widen. She's surrounded. Their faces smeared in blood and filth._

 

_They chant. “Blood must have blood”._

 

_But Clarke was supposed to be the hunter. The killer. The Wanheda._

 

_Instead, she turns to run. Only to find more of them. Walking, slowly. She backs away. Pointing her gun, firing. Some fall, but they only keep walking. That's when she notices Lexa, with a knife to her throat._

 

_She could've sworn they were alone. Clarke pulls the trigger, blasting through the Commander's head, only for Lexa to laugh._

 

“ _I'm harder to kill than that Clarke.”_

 

_Black, sticky blood poured from the wound, drenching Clarke. Until she's drowning in it, lost to the darkness._

 

Clarke awoke. Breathing hard. Again. She dreamed it again.

 

Her vision blurred, head pounding. She'd been drunk last night. One of many.

 

A man by her side, in a dark room. It'd be morning soon, and she had to leave.

 

She crawled out of bed, pulling on some old pants. She saw a shirt, it wasn't hers. She put it on anyway. Grabbing her knife. She left.

 

She had no idea where she was, only that this road lead to the next town. And she'd be that much further from Polis…and that bitch.

 

….

 

She slept most of that day by an old tree, miles away from town. When night fell, she awoke. Cracking her knuckles. She smiled. She loved the night. No one could see her...she could be anyone. Her hair was red. Her clothes smelt like sweat and dirt, as far as Clarke was concerned, she was someone else.

 

It shouldn't have surprised her when all this ended. When her plan's to forever wander aimlessly had been stopped. Permanently. Even less so that it was the Commander's doing.

 

But it had been, and she'd fought against this supposed exiled prince for it to stay that way. Of course fate had other plans...and she was caught, only to find another war brewing. Enough people had died. Yet here she was drawn again, in the thick of it. And she hated it. She'd run from it...and now that she knew what she did. She had to stay, even though she didn't want to.

 

So she stood there in a crowd, of ambassadors, of Grounders. Pissed, as she walked slowly. Bowing, to the oh so great 'Commander'. She'd been sure that she'd never forgive Lexa. That this war was the only reason she was here...until later that night.

 

Lexa...she bowed to her.

 

It wasn't supposed to be that way. Clarke wanted to be mad. She really did. Yet there was Lexa...begging for forgiveness. So without the words, Clarke just held out her hand. Helped her up. And just stared...and Lexa got it, whatever Clarke was trying to say in the silence.

 

….

 

_Roars of fury. Silence. Men, women, yelling at all sides._

 

_Lexa. Holding out her hand. Gripping her collar. Pulling Clarke from the darkness._

 

_Lips. Hot. Wet. Crushing her, sucking the air from her lungs._

 

_Clarke shoves her away, screaming. Alone in a throne room._

 

… _._

 

Clarke awoke, drenched in sweat. Well, that was different.

 

She tangled fingers in her hair. Clutching at her head.

 

It had been so real. It almost felt like that time...but wrong. The kiss left her breathless, heaving for air, afraid for her life.

 

A knock at the door. She jolted from her thoughts. She shifted her gaze, remembering the room. She found a dress, quickly pulling it on, she opened the door.

 

It was Bellamy, dressed like a grounder.

 

Clarke paused, face scrunched in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

His hands found her shoulders, holding too tightly. “To get you out of here!”

 

He was about to pull her, when she stopped him.

 

“I'm safe here, Bel. I don't need saving.”

 

He stared at her...as if he was looking at her for the first time. “How can you say that? She's holding you prisoner.”

 

“No...she was...we have plans to begin a coalition between our people. Bel, we will be grounders.”

 

He stepped back, “And you trust her? After what she did? Clarke she left us to die, our people to die. She never cared about us...and now she has some plan, and you believe her?”

 

Clarke stepped back. “Yes, I do.”

He held his chin, squeezing tightly. “That bitch got to you...I hope you enjoy the side you've chosen Clarke. When it comes crashing down, me, Octavia, Kane, no one will be there to save you.”

That's when Clarke eyes blazed. “I never asked to be saved. Three days from now, Kane and my mother will be here to discuss a treaty. That's when our Coalition begins. It could save our people Bellamy, I'm thinking of them.”

“No. I don't know how you fooled yourself. You're nothing but a toy to her, and you're so in love, you can't even see it!” He hit the wall, grimacing, but not from the pain.

 

Clarke just stared at him. “You have no idea what you're talking about.”

He turned. “I could say the same to you.”

 

Clarke just stood there as he walked away.

 

….

 

Lexa stood there, by the balcony, watching Polis. It was a beautiful city, from an old world.

 

Before everything ended. She wondered what Clarke thought of it...she wanted to take her here. To explore the city with her. To reveal it's secrets to her.

 

Instead it had to begin like this...with the Ice Nation at her heels, playing the horn of war. She hated it. She longed for peace...for a time when her people would know nothing but joy.

 

That was a child's thought. She knew better…and yet it's something she wanted now more than ever.

 

Even the great protector grew weary. She didn't want to see the world burn away...and yet she had watched her people die in exactly that way. She needed to do more that just survive. She would bring peace, even if she needed to kill for it to happen.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! They're awesome!


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